When Jace is bored
by DarkusCat
Summary: Let's just say that angst ridden Shadowhunters and boredom don't mix well...
1. He asks Clary for favors

**...He asks Clary for favors**

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><p>DISCLAIMER: Every morning I wake up and think: I WANT TO OWN MORTAL INSTRUMENTS SOOOOO BADLY!<p>

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><p>Clary picked up the phone<p>

"Hey, you busy?"

The familiar rush of excitement that always accompanied the sound of Jace's voice hit her.

"No, why?"

"Great. Marse and Izzy are off doing something or another, and Alec's off with Magnus." He laughed, "Only the Angel knows what _they're _doing."

Clary sighed. "Could it be that Jace Lightwood actually _does _need a friend?"

She heard Jace scoff. "Not a chance. I pride myself in being fiercely independent. And besides, I have a favor to ask of you."

"And what might that be?"

"Well you'll just have to come and find out, won't you."

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><p>"So what is this favor?"<p>

"I'm not sure how much you'll like it, but I want to learn how to draw."

Clary couldn't help but laugh. "That is what you called me for? To learn how to draw?"

"Well as of late I've been finding myself bored more and more often, and-"

"And you decided to learn how to draw? Why not read a book or something?"

Jace smiled is usual crooked grin. "A picture's worth a thousand words, so they say. Anyways, f I can kill with a pencil it shouldn't be that much harder to draw with one."

"Well, let's see what you've got."

Clary watched as Jace stared blankly at the paper in front of him. She smiled to herself. This was certainly not the sarcastic, arrogant Jace she knew. It was the other Jace that she had seen so rarely. The Jace that didn't know what EBay was or what YouTube was or how to use a can opener.

"Lo and behold! My masterful work of art is now complete!"

Clary looked up at the drawing, then at Jace. "It looks like a carrot. A flaming carrot shish kabob."

Jace stared back at her for a second, aghast. "Well you got the flames right. And the shape right. But I wasn't drawing Isabelle's cooking, I was drawing a seraph blade."

Clary sighed. Leave it to a Shadowhunter to draw a weapon. However instead of commenting on that, she just said,

"It's generally better to see what you're drawing in front of you."

"Well that's easy enough. Sansanvi!" he called and expertly twirled the blade around his finger before setting it down on the table on top of his drawing.

Immediately the blue flames started eating away at the page until all that was left was a pile of ash and a faint scorch mark.

"Hey!" Clary said accusingly. "You knew that would happen."

Jace shrugged. "I thought it would be better for us all if I burned that sorry attempt and all other evidence. Easier on the eyes that way."

Just then the elevator opened.

"We're back!" Isabelle called. "Why does it smell like something's burning?"

"Probably still smelling the delicious breakfast you blessed us all with this morning. I think it was thanks to those blessings that we're all still alive," Jace retorted with a smirk.

Smiling, Clary started asking "What was for-" but was silenced by three looks; Jace's alarmed golden glance, Marse's laughing brown eyes, and Isabelle's dangerous dark glare.


	2. He annoys easily irritable vampires

**..He annoys easily irritable vampires**

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><p>DISCLAIMER: Every night I go to sleep wondering what I can do to get Cassandra Clare to give me the copyright rights of Mortal Instruments...<p>

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><p>"What are you doing?"<p>

"Sitting on a couch. Honestly, why bother with pointless questions."

Simon Lewis just got back from buying groceries, and was welcomed home by none other than Jace.

"No, I mean why are you here?"

"In your apartment? On this planet? In this existence?"

"Ugh, you know what I mean."

"I do? Understanding your mind seems like a terrifying prospect, even to one as fearless as I."

"Don't push it."

"Fine then. Isabelle and Magnus are trying to force Alec to wear something sparkly."

"And it's too hideous to watch?"

"That, and once they're done with him I'm next. Apparently we're 'both too dark and need to lighten up some.' Izzy's words not mine."

"But you're his parabati," Simon said. "Shouldn't you be getting him out of those things?"

"And sacrifice my own pride and sanity? Really, Lewis, if you want to see me in something sparkly that badly, you just have to ask."

"Hmmmm….Pride before parabati. That should be your new motto."

"And what was my old one?" Jace asked, raising and eyebrow.

Simon thought. "I am an egotistical bastard."

"I completely agree. You _are _a bastard."

"Screw you, Wayland."

"Funny, the last time I recall you saying that was after I saved your life. And you should know I speak nothing but the truth."

"Ugh, you disgust me. Get out."

"Yes, my lord," Jace said sarcastically as he leapt onto the window sill

Simon watched as he gracefully jumped, doing a perfect flip on his way down. Jace looked up, waved, and walked away without a backward glance.

"Show-off" Simon muttered, closing the window, only to see it swing open again. This happened several more times, until he gave up and left it open. What he didn't notice was the small opening rune scrawled in corner of the glass.


	3. He criticizes Isabelle's cooking

**...He criticizes Isabelle's cooking**

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><p>DISCLAIMER: *tears* must i say the ugly words?<p>

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><p>Jace walked into the kitchen, and was treated to the most unruly site: Isabelle tossing water onto a boiling pot of…something…on the stove.<p>

"I'm pretty sure warlocks use candles when they raise demons, not burning pots of whatever that is." he sneered, using the teasing tone he reserved for Isabelle's cooking failures. " But on the plus side, judging by the smell, you might have succeeded!"

"Don't leer. It's not like you can cook either." Isabelle snapped, sloshing some water on Jace (which he of course dodged).

"Actually," he started, a small smile playing on his lips. "I can. And I know from a combination of common sense and experience that the reason why your attempt at spaghetti failed so miserably was because the water wasn't boiling. Also, you cook the meat first, and then you put the sauce in. And why, might I ask, are you sticking a metal spoon into a pot of boiling water? Seriously, Iz, even I know this stuff."

"Well then," Isabelle huffed while dousing the last of the flames. "If you're trying to pull the 'high-and-mighty' card on me, why don't you prove it," she challenged, dark eyes flashing.

Jace shrugged. "Fine. It's not like I've got anything better to do. Shove over, I'm gonna need more stove space than that."

_OOC: As I'm about as bad a cook as Isabelle, I'm not going even try to write a cook-off scene, so let's just skip to the end, shall we?_

After a few more buckets of water, a few _iratzes, _and more than a few curses, Isabelle managed to produce a mildly toxic combination of raw meat and burnt noodles. She unfortunately decided to 'make it look as glamorous as she was' by sprinkling glitter on top of it. Someone, somehow needs to teach both her and Magnus that glitter isn't edible.

After twenty minutes, Jace managed to produce a significantly better cooked meat sauce with very some very nicely boiled spaghetti. He sprinkled some parmesan cheese on top, but unfortunately failed to notice that it was expired.

Team Isabelle:

Presentation: 8/10

Taste: -15/10

Toxic/Radiation/Contamination levels: 1000/10

Team Jace:

Presentation: 6/10

Taste: 9/10

Toxic/Radiation/Contamination levels: 2/10

And as they were both finishing, the elevator door opened. Out stepped a very happy looking Alec, who, upon seeing (or perhaps smelling) the mess turned on his heel and bolted back into the elevator without looking back. A pity he didn't get to see both Jace and Isabelle fall on the floor laughing, their failed plates clattering on the floor next to them. What started as a cook-off turned into a food fight. And ended as a very messy kitchen, and a very shell-shocked Alec, and a very, very, _very _angry Maryse.


	4. He makes the impossible possible

**…He makes the impossible possible**

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><p>Wow! Just found out that people are actually <em>reading <em>this! Glad you like it!**  
><strong>

Anyways, DISCLAIMER: If I owned TMI, I wouldn't need to bother with this crap

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><p>Just your usual boring day at the Institute, where there's nothing better to do than watch the golden-brown autumn leaves fall past the windows. Isabelle, Clary, Alec, and Jace were silently sitting around the coffee table, each occupied by their own usual, boring pastimes. Isabelle was filing her nails. Clary and Jace were having a staring contest. Alec had dozed off.<p>

"Seeing as all of you guys are too shy, too anti-social, or too self-centered, I shall be the first to break the silence," Jace proclaimed suddenly, "by saying this; I am bored. One of you, amuse me."

Alec grunted awake. "Oh please," he retorted grumpily, "Go clean your room. Isn't that what you usually do?"

"I will have you know that I have already cleaned it. Multiple times. But if you want me to clean a room with my compulsive instincts, then there's always yours…" he said, letting his voice drift off.

Clary laughed. "If I were you, I wouldn't do that. Last time I saw it, it looked like the washing machine from hell decided to blow up in there."

"All the more reason to clean it," Jace said thoughtfully. Then, with a wicked grin, he said, "Challenge accepted."

Standing up, he looked back at Clary, who mouthed _Good luck, _Isabelle, who was silently giggling, and Alec, who sat there with his head in his hands, not making eye contact. "Fare thee well, dear friends." he said, wiping a mock tear from his eye and waving. "If I don't come back in the next hour and a half, come up after me and be fully armed and prepared to take on a demon washing machine."

Jace lumbered off, thinking, _What have I gotten myself into? _and by the time the elevator doors opened, he was half considering bolting back and claiming that it was too dirty to be true. But, like usual, his pride overcame his weakness and, bracing himself, he opened Alec's door.

His initial reaction was the stench. Then, gagging, he stepped further in and started becoming aware of the various articles of clothing, rotting food, and weapons strewn about. Finally, he stopped next to the bed. "The Angel," he breathed. "Clary was right. A demon washing machine _did _blow up in here. Several, in fact."

From downstairs, Isabelle called "Hey! You still alive up there! Has the stench knocked you out yet?

For Alec's sake, he retorted, "Don't worry about me and the stench. I'm used to it. After all, up here smells no worse than your cooking, Iz." Then, with a decisive sigh, he started picking up the room, talking to himself along the way.

"Okay, Jace," he muttered, "You're going to work from the door to the bed. Dirty sock goes there. Moldy sandwich goes in the trash. Shoe goes there. Stele goes there. Sensor goes, oh wait that's broken. Shirt goes there. Belt there. Gear there. Dagger there. Sock there. Apple there…." He had fallen into a mechanical rhythm, and was oblivious to anything but the next piece of Alec's stuff that he was about to pick up.

THIRTY MINUTES LATER

"Straighten the pillows. Pick up lint. Vacuum in the corner. Open a window. Final inspection. Sweep up dust. There. Done." Bursting with triumph, he stared at the room that he had spent the past 45 minutes or so cleaning, and, with a final smile, he turned on his heel and sauntered downstairs.

"Hey there, Rip Van Wrinkle," Isabelle teased. "Have you finally given up?"

"Not in the slightest," Jace said, flashing her a sparking smile. "I finished. Told you I could!"

Chanting "I told you so! I told you so!" He grabbed Clary, who grabbed Isabelle, who grabbed Alec, and yanked them up to Alec's room to gloat. When he opened the door, Isabelle let out a squeal of joy, Clary hugged Jace, and Alec fainted. He was out cold for at least 10 minutes.

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><p>Lol, just realized that for the past two stories I've been giving poor Alec a really rough time... oops... Well that's gonna change!<p> 


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